


Come get me?

by lyngan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, hurt comfort, i tried guys, if you squint you can probably see victor/yuri in there, maybe ooc a little, mild swearing, promt, yuri is vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 09:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14422950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyngan/pseuds/lyngan
Summary: Prompt fill: Yuri has something terrible happen to him. He can't tell Yakov or his grandpa; he just wants Victor to come get him. h/c, hurt's off-screen, heavy on the comfort.“Yura?”Something that sounded suspiciously like sniffling came through the phone “Victor?” the voice trembled. [excerpt]





	Come get me?

Victor picked up his ringing phone and stared at it blearily. It was supposed to be his day off and he’d decided to catch up on his sleep for a change, an incredibly rare change, usually when Victor had a day off he'd fill it with things he wasn't supposed to be doing on his days off, like skating. The caller ID read “Yura” and Victor frowned before realising he hadn’t actually answered the phone. He was never at his best when he just woke up.

“Yura?”

Something that sounded suspiciously like sniffling came through the phone “Victor?” the voice trembled.

Victor jerked upright. Something was wrong. Yuri never cried, Yuri never sounded like that. Yuri was strong and fierce and loud. “Where are you?” Victor demanded.

Yuri waited on the street corner he’d mentioned to Victor, pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths to keep from crying, wiping his eyes because he definitely wasn’t crying already! His sleeve wasn’t damp from wiping away tears, absolutely not. He glanced down at his phone but it still said nothing. He looked desperately up and down the street, tears welling again. Fuck. He tried to blink them back. Every time a car passed him by he looked up in the hopes that it was Victor. His breath was uneven as the panicky feeling set in. It felt like hours until Victor finally arrived.

By the time Yuri was in Victor’s flat, sat on the sofa and sipping from a huge glass of water – really did Victor have to have such obnoxious glasses? – he had stopped crying. Not that he had been crying. Of course not. Yuri didn’t cry. Ever. Not since… no not ever!

Victor settled on the sofa next to Yuri, all long limbs and concerned blue eyes and hair flopping in his face. Yuri still wasn’t sure if he thought Victors hair was ridiculous or pretty but he shoved the thought away. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He didn’t want to think about anything right now.

“Yura, what happened?” Victor asked, not for the first time. The first time he’d asked was when he’d found Yuri on a street corner, eyes red and breathing shallow. Yuri had shaken his head and Victor hadn’t pressed, just got him into the car. He’d asked again when they’d first arrived at Victor’s flat, to which Yuri had replied with a hiccup and Victor had gone to get him some water.

“I don’t…” Yuri wrinkled his nose, trying to pull up his usual tough exterior. It wasn’t exactly a persona, which made it all the harder to emulate when he felt so vulnerable. Victor’s arm fell across his shoulder and Yuri felt himself being pulled into a half hug. Tears threatened his eyes again but he blinked them back. He hid his face in Victor’s chest.

Victor didn’t think he was very good at comforting people. He never knew what to do with his hands. If he was perfectly honest with himself, his whole life had been about skating and getting better and better so he’d never really developed socially. He looked down at the protégé in his hold and immediately saw himself in Yuri. The teen had nobody in his life to go to except his grandfather – who he only wanted to show the good things to, to make proud; and Yakov – probably worse at comforting than Victor. He tried to put himself in Yuri’s position. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew his friend – he supposed they were friends? – was upset.

Victor rubbed gently at Yuri’s back. Yuri, in turn, kicked off his shoes and pulled his feet up onto the sofa. Victor was warm and his t-shirt was soft and if Yuri was being honest he hadn’t been hugged in the longest time. The only person he let hug him was his grandpa. Despite this he rubbed his face on Victors T-shirt. Victor kissed the top of his head. Yuri felt like a child, which in turn made him angry.

“I’m not some fucking infant” he tried to snarl

“Sorry Yura” Victor mumbled into his hair. Yuri snuffled into Victor’s shirt, thankful that Victor hadn’t pointed out how pathetic his voice had been, thankful that Victor wasn’t asking about what had happened any more.

Victor wasn’t sure when Yuri had fallen asleep. At some point the weight on his chest had increased, Yuri’s breathing had slowed and evened, the hand that had been tightly fisted in Victor’s shirt had relaxed. He supposed it was good for Yuri to relax and rest. He supposed he should figure out a way of escaping the prison of Yuri's arms. 

Yuri awoke to the smell of syrniki cooking. He pulled himself off the sofa, shuffling, stiff, and uncomfortable in slept-in jeans. Victor was stood by the stove, obviously cooking. Yuri looked around to see berries, jam, and all the other usual and more elaborate accompaniments to syrniki. Yuri noticed a pot of tea, pouring himself a mug heaped it with jam and took a long drink. Victor plated up a pile of syrniki and handed it to Yuri. They ate quietly, as soon as Yuri took a bite he couldn’t restrain himself, scoffing the pile down with hardly a pause to chew. Victor found himself watching Yuri rather than eating his own food.

Yuri looked up, noticing Victor’s gaze. He stopped, attempting to eat in a more civilised fashion. Victor was pulling that face again, the open mouthed grin that he hardly showed to anyone, the smile that was unrestrained, the most infectious smile Yuri had ever seen. He couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corner of his lips in response. Victor stopped watching Yuri and went back to eating, pausing a few moments later and offering his almost-full plate to Yuri, who had, of course finished. Yuri thought about refusing but he liked the feeling of being pampered, especially by Victor, who could be a tad cutthroat at times in the rink. Yuri didn't want to admit that he always wanted someone to treat him like a princess but here in this kitchen, sat on an absurdly uncomfortable stool, eating breakfast made especially for him he found the picture of a life he hadn't known he wanted. So he took the syrniki and let Victor pour him some more tea, taking the time to relax and let the world fall away, just for a moment.

“Thank you” Yuri said finally, after they had finished breakfast and he had helped Victor wash up and put away his dishes.

“Hmm?” Victor asked

“For coming to get me”

“Of course”

“You didn’t have to”

“Yura” Victor chided “you needed me; of course I came to get you”

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Yuri awoke with the realisation that I can't write hurt/comfort fics because I don't actually know how to comfort someone"  
> I'd like to take a moment to thank wikihow for teaching me how to comfort a person.


End file.
